Mother's Day Massacre

Oreo giving me her best "you looking at me?" looks

Purdy's Welcome Home party last Summer

Well, this Mother's Day started out with a beautiful handmade card from my sweet boy, coffee delivered to me in bed by my dear husband and donuts, yogurt & granola for breakfast.  Just lovely.  Mellow, low-key and didn't even have to leave the comfort of my much-loved home.  I never seem to want to go out on Mother's Day.  I've heard from my restaurant-owning friends that it's one of their least favorite days of the year.  Lots of expectations from the moms-who-don't-feel-like-cooking-because-it's-mother's-day and a lot of stress on the staff serving her and her family of loved ones.  No. Thank. You.

When Steve left for work this morning - I followed him out and he quickly turned around and told me something horrible had happened and to get back in the house.  Two of our chickens were dead and scattered around our front yard.  Just awful news.  I quickly went to find Grady and make sure he was preoccupied in the back part of the house, so as not to encounter the dismembered hens he named Oreo and Purdy.  I did tell him what happened and the sadness immediately set in.

My husband spared me the nightmarish scene, but it didn't make it any easier to take.  Two more of my sweet little hens were dead.  The tally was up to three dead in just about a week's time.  What the eff was killing my chickens?

Grady and myself set out to make grave markers, but we didn't end up burying the two hens killed on this Sunday.  It would have been too hard for me to process on Mother's Day.  G didn't seem up for a ceremony either.  We wrote their names on smooth river rocks and then put those into the chicken run with the other living hens.  We said a few nice words and that was that.

Roamer, Oreo & Purdy are dead.  Perhaps little chicks are in our future to take their place?  I'm not so sure.  What started out as a fun little experiment to provide eggs for our family and for G to sell locally has ended up as an emotional roller coaster.  We have learned a lot about raising chickens, but I never thought I would get so attached to these crazy little hens.

I am surely going to miss them.  Rest in peace girls.